In the summer of 1954, Terence Rattigan was the darling of British theatre. The year before, his successful The Deep Blue Sea finished its run at the Duchess Theatre, and The Sleeping Prince opened at the Phoenix. His new production, two one-act plays by the name of Separate Tables would open at the St James’ Theatre in September. He’d ride the crest of this wave for a little longer until John Osborne’s Look Back in Anger reset the theatre scene in 1956, and Rattigan would be consigned to the drawer marked Fuddy-Duddy for many years.
But, as James Dacre’s beautifully staged and paced Summer 1954 reveals, Rattigan wrote plays of extraordinary quality. There’s never an unnecessary line or an incidental character; everything is neatly planned and tightly delivered. Summer 1954 unites one of the Separate Tables, Table Number Seven – where hotel resident Major Pollock falls into disgrace because of his indecent behaviour – with his hard-hitting 1948 one act play, The Browning Version, relating what happens on the last day of Greek master Andrew Crocker-Harris’ tenure at a public school.
Combining these two one-act plays gives a modern audience a chance to see Rattigan in the raw; at once showing both the comedy and tragedy of cruelty, isolation, and a great deal more besides. It also uses Rattigan’s original version of Major Pollock’s indecent transgression of the law, rather than the version that reached the stage of the St James’ – and indeed remained as part of Separate Tables for decades after. There’s no need to worry about what the Lord Chamberlain might disagree with today, after all.
It’s a bold move by James Dacre as the plays arguably work better as part of their original line-ups; especially Table Number Seven which is the second part of Separate Tables and develops some of the characters that we meet in the first part, Table by the Window. The Browning Version was originally staged as the first part of Playbill, which ended with the hilarious Harlequinade, a lighthearted farce which massages away all the sting of the first play. Ending Summer 1954 with The Browning Version sends the audience home with an uncomfortable range of challenges, rather than with a comedy riot.
However, Rattigan’s writing is so deliciously controlled, and creates some truly repressed and displaced characters, hiding away their emotions and realities until their internal pressure cookers explode. You might be expecting some light drawing-room comedy, but this double bill packs a punch. And Dacre’s simple and unobtrusive direction allows the characters and language to come to the fore, telling their quiet, domestic, but riveting stories to the extent that you could hear a pin drop in the packed rows of Chichester’s Festival Theatre.
The cast of Table Number Seven is led by Sian Phillips, giving us a wonderful portrayal of the demanding, withering and manipulative Mrs Railton-Bell. Using masterful verbal tones and facial expressions, she gives a powerful performance of someone who revels in someone else’s misfortune, dominates her mousey daughter, and tries to pay out on anyone who Isn’t Like Her. The object of her ire is Nathaniel Parker’s Major Pollock, breezily spinning his lies and attempting to cover up his mistakes because he doesn’t like who he is. There are also some excellent supporting performances, notably from Richenda Carey as the unpredictable racing punter Miss Meacham, and a lovely study in innate kindness from Lolita Chakrabarti as Miss Cooper.
Some cast members return after the interval for The Browning Version, including impeccable performances by Nathaniel Parker as the out-of-touch Andrew Crocker-Harris (The Crock) and Lolita Chakrabarti as his unfulfilled but cruel wife Millie. Jeremy Neumark Jonesgives an excellent performance as science teacher and Millie’s lover Frank Hunter, and Bertie Hawes shows great promise in his professional stage debut as Taplow.
It would be wrong to say it was perfect throughout; there were some missed or fumbled lines from a few of the actors in Table Number Seven, but, as Browning himself said, I want the heart to scold. Two superb examples of mid-20th century drama at its best. After its run in Chichester, the production tours to Richmond, Cheltenham and Oxford.
Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!